This has turned out almost diametrically opposed to how I wanted to write about this "butterfly issue", following on from Jay's beautiful write today. I apologise for the travesty, J! K xx
OF BUTTERFLIES AND BEASTS
It was at the Buddleia bush,
when surrounded by gales
of emotional tempest
unintelligible to her five-year old heart,
that she remained anchored,
stilling the storms
by plucking the wings from butterflies.
Darting, blinking eyes
turned to dust in her fingers,
were quieted;
then silenced.
But they did not leave.
Each one was taken alive inside
and released whenever pictures of pain
or destruction later
crashed upon her gaze.
And when images of bloodied erotica
passed her butchered by,
the eyes would rise up and moan,
crying “Tiger, Tiger” –
summoning Big Cats from their vascular lair.
Butterflies and beasts
prowled her insides:
restless, hungry:
A gleam of iridescent iris
or glint of quickening fang.
She would be satisfied
and at peace
Never.
Until the eyes are shut.
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Reviews of "Of Butterflies And Beasts"
Reviewed by Nicoletta Poulakida (Reader)
Reviewed on June 13, 2006
You're a fine poetess, but how can one track an author here, I have been trying for days now and nothing happens, I would like to be notified when you post new pieces, I'm very interested in reading you
you hit a lot of notes and strike a chord within with this one, Kate. lots of wisdom and a pull toward greater harmony, I think. hope you are doing well. Dawn
There is such a development of inner feedback here, Kate. Of Butterflies And Beasts expresses real feelings toward greater acceptance of our total being---emotional, intellectual, and physical. There is a psychological climate of safety here, free toward the flight of inner expression and a collaborative relationship of nature's beauty and beast without distracting from revelation. Blessed Be.
I find this completely enthralling, Kate. It is a creative offering worthy of study and of much more than a single reading. Some parts make me shudder. Powerful! Thank you. Love and peace to you,
Regis
Reviewed by Gordon Rosenberg (Reader)
Reviewed on May 18, 2006
painful in many ways
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on May 18, 2006
NAFF OFF PAUL, YES I AM...VERY, WHAT A CHEAT THE REF WAS..
Ah yes the pome, Tiger, tiger will indeed bring burnside-ing cats, as for her peace..never, but as for her piece, hum yep..
we awaken our desires and passions when the beasts and butterflies of our inner nature live in harmony outside our lives ... our eyes reopen and assume our true shape ...
This is a fine poem on the tug of war that persists between the beauty and the beast in all of us. Especially when we have been abused or demeaned as children. Your experience deals with this in ways that many cannot and it is for our benefit to see it for the reality of what it is. Excellent work Kate!
Vivid and intense and surprizing coming from my sweet Kate, lol are you getting wicked in your visions now? Only kidding this has great imagery and wonderful descriptive lines that make it a great work
Fee
Whoa! too many Walnut Whirls girl lol. Wow! Kate this is a belter, your every word carries and projects the imagery right into my psychological collection of etamological things (earwigs in boxes... remember?). I'm saving this one Mizz Moneypenny...that spy bloke is well impressed. Where's Turner these days? is he sulking because the Gooners got beat;)
Pain is passion too and the passion here of animal and flight is perfected in the colors only a deep and richly focused individual could create. Brava!!!
Susan
And so it sometimes goes that the nightmare realities which invade youth become the eroticized hauntings of later years. A psychologically penetrating and painfully beautiful work.
Aberjhani
wow, this is awsome, needs several readings Kate.......so many layers..we must be on the same wave length, I have been writing a vampire story........your fang reference struck a cord........
But I see a child survivor of abuse, incest?
A damaged soul, stilling the pain, by inflicting elsewhere
like she saw herself as the butterfly, in the hands of her abuser? Helpless........
this is disturbing, and thats what shows its power........
maybe I am off today?
maybe I am not.....
sometimes I read poetry too quickly.......and see things superficially, and sometimes I mine too deep..........
either way
you are a gifted wordsmith.....everything comes thru.......
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
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Nicoletta
Sage
(((HGUS))) and much love, your friend in america, karen lynn in texas. :(
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Thanks for sharing this wonderful offering
love and peace
Huda
carolyn
Regis
Ah yes the pome, Tiger, tiger will indeed bring burnside-ing cats, as for her peace..never, but as for her piece, hum yep..
eT
Fee
Birgit and Roger
Paul;-)
Susan
Has a torturous and agonizing feel to the thread of this poem...
Some memories are best erased completely from the subconcious...
Peter
Aberjhani
But I see a child survivor of abuse, incest?
A damaged soul, stilling the pain, by inflicting elsewhere
like she saw herself as the butterfly, in the hands of her abuser? Helpless........
this is disturbing, and thats what shows its power........
maybe I am off today?
maybe I am not.....
sometimes I read poetry too quickly.......and see things superficially, and sometimes I mine too deep..........
either way
you are a gifted wordsmith.....everything comes thru.......
like butterflies and beasts
ty kate........pax A